


It First Occurred to Me

by Ragingbulldurham



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Movie, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 02:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4461434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragingbulldurham/pseuds/Ragingbulldurham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>So this wasn’t about jealousy. This was about behaving appropriately in a workplace environment. This was simply about respecting boundaries, and knowing what was acceptable and what was not.</i>
</p><p>Set pre-movie and based on a Tumblr prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It First Occurred to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt:
> 
> Clawen: How bout Claire getting jealous when she sees Owen getting closer to Zara, her assistant :D
> 
> The title is from the Robert Francis song. Thanks for reading!

She didn’t want to date him.

That wasn’t it. That wasn’t it, at _all_.

She absolutely, positively, did _not_ want to date him.

So this wasn’t about jealousy. This was about behaving appropriately in a workplace environment. This was simply about respecting boundaries, and knowing what was acceptable and what was not.

Everyone knew that dating a coworker was a very bad idea. Messy at best, disastrous and uncomfortable at worst, and while they weren’t technically coworkers, they did have to work together. Often.

And what would happen if they went on a date and it didn’t work out? What then? (She wouldn’t allow herself to think about what would happen if they went on a date and it _did_ work out. Because it wouldn’t. But it wasn’t because she wanted to date him. It wasn’t.)

So no, she didn’t like the idea of her assistant Zara going out on a date with resident raptor whisperer Owen Grady. And it had nothing, _nothing_ , to do with jealousy. Because she was not interested, thank you very much. He was completely, totally, one-hundred percent not her type.

And she was surprised, honestly, that he might be Zara’s. She had thought Zara would go for the corporate type, all slicked back hair and expensive suits, and not Owen. Not that rough and tumble, all messy hair and dirty clothes and crooked smiles that sometimes make her feel things that she should not be feeling.

Claire wasn’t sure that a date was happening, but she was an intelligent, intuitive person, and there were some established, inarguable facts:

1) Owen Grady swung by her office a lot. More than he necessarily needed to.

2) He and Zara flirted incessantly. Owen would lean on Zara’s desk and grin at her, and she would grin back and it sort of made Claire want to puke a little. Or a lot. Depending on the day.

3) Owen asked Zara about Claire’s schedule every time he stopped in, and _everyone_ knew that when Claire was working, Zara was working. (And trying to keep a date from getting on the books was definitely _not_ why Claire had been pulling long hours lately. She was just busy. They were running a massively expensive, massively popular theme park and sometimes they had to work extra hours. If Zara didn’t like it, she could get another job).

4) Did she mention the flirting? Zara giggled like a maniac when he was around, and okay, yes, he could be funny, but he wasn’t _that_ funny.

5) And then when he wasn’t stopping by, he was not turning in his paperwork on time, which usually meant that Zara had to go out there to pester him for it. Except, to try to dissuade the two from spending even more time together, it was _Claire_ who was forced to drive out to the raptor paddock and bother him for the paperwork.

As far as Claire knew, Zara and Owen hadn’t been on a date yet, and she would like to keep it that way. But only because work place romances were an HR nightmare. Not for any other reason.

She was in her office working on some last minute reports for Mr. Masrani when she heard Owen’s voice in her outer office, and she leaned over slightly to glance out her door. As per usual, Owen was perched on the corner of Zara’s desk, a wide grin on his face. She didn’t need to see Zara’s face to know that there was a matching grin, and Claire swallowed hard and then turned her attention back to the computer.

It was only when the giggling reached a fever pitch that Claire decided that something must be done about it, and she pushed back from her desk and marched out of her office, giving both of them her most intimidating glare.

“Zara? Did you manage to get those numbers for me? We have a deadline,” Claire could hear the tone in her voice, and part of her cringed at the sound, but the other part, the bigger part, knew that she didn’t get to where she was by being soft and polite. She was all hard edges and sharp tones, and she had earned a reputation around the Park for being cold and heartless, and it stung a little, if she let herself think about it too much. So she didn’t let herself think about it too much. “Oh, hello, Mr. Grady. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Just dropping off my report,” he waved the paper in his hand, and Claire raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Would hate for anyone to have to drive all the way out to the enclosure to bust my balls about it.” He gave Zara a wink, and Claire had to stop herself from gagging.

“Well, thank you,” Claire held out a hand and Owen dropped it into her outstretched palm. “And Zara? Those numbers?”

“Right,” Zara nodded, spinning around. Claire turned on her heel to head back into her office, and she was about to close her door when she realized that Owen was following her.

“Is there something else I can help you with?” Claire asked, and instead of being properly intimidated, like he should have been, he grinned instead. She felt her stomach flip, but blamed it on indigestion.

Because it was _not_ because he was smiling at her in a way that kind of made her feel like she was the only person on the whole planet that mattered.

“I know you’ve been really busy lately,” he started. “Zara said you’ve been working late nearly every night.” _Zara said._ Shit. It sounded so personal, so familiar. Are they _dating_ and she just missed it? That didn’t seem possible. Claire missed nothing.

“Well, it’s almost the end of the fiscal year,” Claire shrugged. “We’re busy.”

“Right,” his grin faltered for a moment and she could have sworn he looked _nervous_. He ran a hand over the back of his neck and she realized with a start that he was nervous. He was building to something.

Was he going to ask for permission to ask Zara out on a date? As if Claire was Zara’s keeper? (More importantly, _could_ she say no? No. _Don’t be ridiculous Claire, you’re her boss not her mother._ ) Was he going to ask her to let Zara have a night off? (She could say no to that. Sorry. Too busy. Try again next time.)

“ _I’m_ busy,” Claire qualified, hoping he would spit out whatever it was so that she could go back to burying herself in work and trying hard not to think about her assistant the raptor handler’s burgeoning romance.

“Wouldyouliketogetdinnersometime?” It came out of his mouth in a rush, all in one breath, and Claire was stunned silent for a moment, before she said the first thing that came into her mind.

“I thought you liked Zara,” Claire exclaimed.

“What?” Owen was genuinely confused by that, and Claire felt her heart pounding against her chest. “Why in the world would you think that?”

“I just,” Claire felt flustered, and she _hated_ feeling flustered. “You spend a lot of time here.”

“To see _you_ ,” Owen replied immediately.

“But, you sit on the corner of Zara’s desk, and you lean into her like,” Claire demonstrated, feeling more idiotic by the second. “You know! Like that!”

“I can see into your office, see you at your desk, if I sit just right on the edge of Zara’s desk and lean just a little to the left,” Owen confessed, but a shit-eating grin was starting to form, the edges of his mouth curling up.

 _Oh_.

“You never turn in your paperwork! You know that means that she has to come out to pick it up!” His grin was full fledged now.

“I know _one_ of you has to come pick it up,” he corrected. “And lately it’s been you.”

“Because I didn’t want it to be _her_!” Claire clamped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late, and his grin widened, if that was at all possible.

“Are you _jealous_ , Ms. Dearing?” Owen teased.

“No,” Claire answered stubbornly, folding her arms across her chest and trying desperately to regain some of her footing. _Shut up_ , _Claire_ , she told herself. Her mouth moved faster than her brain did, and she blurted out, “but you flirt with her!”

“I’m a friendly guy!” He exclaimed. Claire huffed.“You are. You’re jealous!”

"I am not,” Claire waved a finger at her.

“I think you are,” he taunted.

"I am _not_ ,” she ground out between her teeth. She realized, suddenly, how close he was standing to her. He had been slowly inching closer as they argued without her knowing.

“I think you are,” he repeated, dropping his voice. “And you should know that you have absolutely nothing to worry about. She’s not my type. I’ve, uh, got a thing for redheads.” She felt herself flush, but refused to let her eyes drop down. “And you haven’t answered my question. Would you like to go to dinner sometime?”

She could say no.

She could.

Workplace romances were complicated and messy. But _technically_ he worked for InGen and she worked for Masrani, and so it wasn’t like they were _really_ coworkers (even if all his reports came to her. Semantics). And half of her wanted to say no just to get that cocky smile off his face.

Claire shifted her weight and stared him down just long enough.

She could say no. But she _didn’t_ want to say no. She wanted to say yes. Because, fine, yes, she wanted to date him. She wanted to go out on a date with him. She had been a little jealous when she thought he had a thing for Zara, although Hell would freeze over before she admitted that to him. Yeah, no thanks, he was already insufferable as is.

“Okay,” she agreed after he began to fidget. “Yes. I’d like to go to dinner sometime.” Owen’s face broke into a wide grin, and he nodded.

“Friday?” He suggested. “I know that you have it free currently. I checked with your assistant.” Claire rolled her eyes slightly, and nodded.

“Friday,” she agreed. And he rocked back on his heels, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“It’s a date,” he said as he turned to leave.

“Owen?” Claire called as he was almost out the door.

“Yeah?” He glanced back. She gave him a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Turn your damn reports in on time.” 


End file.
